Future Claim
by Just Alex
Summary: Albus is pulled from his time into Scorpius's time. Why does Scorpius even want him there? AU, eventual lemon--I'm very proud of this so far. I hope if you decide to read it that you'll like it as well. ScorpiusxAlbus


**Hello! All of my regular readers are probably irritated with me at the moment, as I haven't updated for about...oh, what has it been? Maybe five months or so? Well, regardless, I've been adjusting, and I'd like to let you all know that this is only the beginning of an awful lot of new chapters, for all of my stories.**

**I still plan to finish each and every one of the stories that I upload onto here. But I must concede that every once in a while I should probably let you know that I am still alive, and so I bring you this little knot of gold.**

**As with all my other stories, this one is an experiment with a different genre. Science Fiction--I'm thinking I'll probably like this one.**

**By the way, Scorpius has blue hair because (as you will see eventually) all kids in this age dye their hair in some way. I decided that blue was a good color for a Malfoy.**

**So yeah, before you read on, I would like to formally request that, if you have a challenge for me, give it to me. I think I may soon make a challenge story, each chapter written with a specific challenge in mind. So, if you have any ideas, now's the time to tell me. :D**

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Future Claim

Chapter One  
Part One  
Saved

He took a deep breath, tasting the smog in the air. He felt the heat coming from the sky, the pavement, the humming machines that roamed the streets. His sneakers made the sound of falling water as he stepped over to the crosswalk. He felt the air whoosh past, man-made wind from man-made transportation vehicles. He saw the dull grey of the tall buildings and the reflecting, darker grey of shining, tinted windows. Adding beautiful accents to the scene were the colorful people and cars of all types and sizes and ages and colors. He heard the speech of cars and people, weaving together in a unique harmony only known to great cities. He heard the droning tone that accompanied blinking shapes and knew that it was safe to cross the street, but also that he was the only one in this crosswalk.

He knew, but he didn't really notice.

He was about halfway across the street when the blue truck suddenly jerked forward, heading right towards him.

In the milliseconds he had remaining, the fight, flight, or freeze instinct hit him. Fight was immediately discarded (it was a truck! Honestly!). Flight was discarded directly after that (see truck reference above). So, instead of even attempting to do something remotely intelligent, he froze like a deer in the headlights as the semi sped towards him.

And then something gripped his right ankle and he was falling through the pavement.

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The room was cold. The air was sharp and tasted metallic, reminiscent of fake citrus, as if left behind by a too-strong cleaning product. The chair arms he was gripping refused to be held, instead molding into the shape of his fingers. A light, tinkling piano song whispered lightly in his ears. He blinked rapidly, but the image of the unreal room remained.

All the furniture had sky blue cushions, immaculately neat and pressed in their silver frames. In any other house, they would have looked cold and off-putting, but in this shining, silvery room, they looked inviting. Odd metal discs hung on the wall, supposedly as decoration. There was a black screen set into the wall and a couch set up facing it, and on the wall opposite it was a bed piled high with smooth square pillows. Directly in front of him was a door, on which a boy with long, electric blue hair leaned. His eyes were as silver as his furniture but twice as sharp, and his skin was bleached as if from long separation from the sun's harsh rays. His clothes were odd, out of style; the shimmering silver fabric was form fitting and long, the sleeves reaching the palm of the boy's pale hands and the pant legs stopped just short of the floor. His shoes were smooth and pointed, almost professional looking.

Pulling his gaze up to the strange boy's face, he saw that the boy was smirking, and he frowned at the boy's fairy features.

"Who are you?"

"Scorpius Malfoy." He said his name as if it were made from gold. "And you're Albus Potter, right?"

"How did you know my name?" Albus didn't even try to mask the suspicion in his voice. The smirk that sat comfortably on Scorpius's pale lips seemed to intensify.

"Why, the newspaper of course." As if that were an obvious and not-unusual-at-all response.

"Why would I be in the newspaper?" He was really biting back his anger now.

"Because you died." The smirk disappeared and Scorpius watched Albus seriously.

"I died?" Albus blinked and gazed around the room. "This is a really shitty heaven. Where's the sweets?"

Scorpius grinned. "You're not in heaven."

Albus paused and then frowned. "This place is too cold to be hell."

Scorpius laughed, and it was just as light as his eyes. "You aren't dead. You died, but you aren't dead."

"Okay, I'm really confused now."

Scorpius's teeth were blinding as he grinned at him. "In the eyes of the government, you died years ago. But, as you can see, you're right here. The government thinks you died in a car wreck. I assume you remember that truck?"

Albus shuddered, thinking of the roaring engine and baking heat.

"Yes. Well, I saved you from that truck."

Albus's eyes widened, staring at the pale boy with wonder. "How…?"

Scorpius grinned. "Easy. I simply pulled you through the fabric of space and time."

Albus blinked blankly. "What?"

Scorpius pulled up another sharp blue chair and sat facing Albus.

"You see, Albus, I am an inventor. Recently, I created a time machine. I wanted to test it. So, I picked someone I could steal away inconspicuously." His sharp silver eyes seemed to pierce and pin him in place. "You."


End file.
